Just Once

Summary: Old emotions, when evoked, can be dangerous...

Disclaimer: Had I really owned FMA, the Maes would so mercilessly be fucking Roy! XD

AN: In response to a prompt in LJ. Not my best. But I hope it's worth your time. The italics are used for flashbacks. I didn't bother separating them into paragrahs because I thought it'd serve the purpose of a cool transition. now you guys tell me how it really turned out. :P This is again, unbeta'd. So, if you guys spot a major error or have suggestions for me to improve, then be my guest! Send it through your reviews, please. :P Thanks.

Warning: Nothing to be really warned about...nothing too graphic.

Roy stretched on to the couch, a soft moan escaping his throat. His back ached and nape soared for bending down for hours and hours. But, he had no choice. His presentation was due in forty eight hours and by the looks of his superior's eyes, he wanted it to be perfectly done and submitted within the due date.

"On Ishval, Sir?" The young lieutenant asked, shifting slightly on his heels. He eyed his general from where he stood, thankful for having to see only his broad muscular back instead of those cold, icy eyes that made Roy so awfully nervous.

The general blew a puff of smoke into the air, regardless of the other's discomfort and nodded. "Yes, Lieutenant. We need it for evaluation of tactics and strategies for the future."

Future? What future? Future of another blood bath? Another feat of seemingly killing innocent people? That future?

Roy nodded and clicked his heels, making his way towards the exit. He knew very well that it was useless to reject the request. That too, from General Cortez, well known for giving orders; not making requests.

Another yawn and Roy looked up at the clock. It showed ten thirty in the night. Not too late but early enough for workaholics to kick back and relax, maybe even grab a drink or two at their favourite bars; perhaps hit it off with a few drunks or maybe even a jackpot if their lucks favoured. At some point, the maid had already entered and set dinner on top of the small coffee table, right in the middle of small living room that the military tossed at the battered Lieutenant who was now the hero of Ishval Massacre, the saviour of Amestris.

The dim light fell briskly on top of the furnished table, where Roy was working so diligently, its yellowness fading away gradually, evaporating into the soft, warm yellowish-orange tinge that coloured the walls, trying desperately to make the apartment a little bit homely...even though the scattered bits and eye-catching voids made their presence all too prominent.

Roy set the pen down and moved the papers aside, then pulling the plate towards him. He opened the lid and smell of roasted corn and beef filled the small room.

"Shall I bring anything else, Sir?" The maid asked. An elderly woman within her mid forties, hair whitening from her sideburns; faint wrinkled peeping up from her once smooth and beautiful skin announcing or rather, giving a brief description of her age.

"No, thank you Martha. This is enough."

The woman bowed curtly before taking her leave for the night, her footsteps echoing upwards as she took the stairs. If it wasn't for her, Roy would be in a terrible mess- physically.

Just at that time, the phone seemed to cry out; begging for Roy's attention- much like it had been doing since the past few days. Roy didn't even stir. He quietly pulled the plate of poached eggs before him, hands delicately cutting it into small pieces.

Another invitation, perhaps. That was what had become his main priority over the days. Appearing in parties, toasting at their 'success', exchange of a few words...just conditional congratulations. Nothing more.

The phone stopped ringing eventually and Roy sighed. He didn't deserve to be here, sitting safely in his home. He was no hero! A mass murderer. A coward who couldn't even take his life when the need became extreme. He couldn't do it! Something stopped him! And also...someone.

The phone cried out once more and this time, Roy couldn't ignore it. He sighed and made his way towards the phone and in a firm but monotonous way, spoke into the receiver: "Mustang."

"Yo Roy!"

"Maes."

"Hey listen. I know it's too late but", Maes continued in his usual chirpy voice, "You see, the security wanted me to make sure you knew that I was coming."

Roy frowned at that and asked, "You're coming?"

"I'm here."

"And you're telling this now?"

Maes was heard chuckling as he replied, "C'mon! Don't you wanna spend time with your buddy?"

"At this time of the night? Maes! What will Gracia think?"

"I just got a break and...may I please come in?" The other requested much to the dismay of Roy who had no choice but to agree.

"Why don't you let me inside?" Maes asked, desperately holding the door, preventing it from being shut right at his face.

"You don't understand! You don't belong here!" Came the reply, so desperate and pained. "My house...it's too filthy for you! Too filthy..."

Maes sighed and pushed the door when the grasp was weakened, much like the man holding it, who gently fell on to the floor. Tears ran through his eyes, hands clutching the once smooth, regal black strands that had now been reduced to dry bush for lack of oil or shampoo.

"Y-you can't be here! You're causing me pain Maes! You are causing me pain!"

"So that's why it had been so tough to get some free time. The case took a toll on everyone who had been involved. And being the lead investigator, you can only imagine how much running around I had to do!" Maes explained, wiping his specs with his napkin.

"But isn't it unnatural for you to be here with me so late at night?" Roy asked, trying to figure out why Maes had bothered visiting him the first place. He was so unreadable at times.

"I just wanted to talk."

"About what, Maes?" Roy asked with a firmness in his voice. If he had been with the man in the evening, then probably he'd ignore any suspicion that came to his mind. But this wasn't a usual time...

The addressed set his specs aside and looked up at the alchemist, citrine orbs probing deep within onyx ones, as if to tell something that his lips could not. The dim light of the room fell upon that warm shade of olive eyes, complementing it with a touch of its softness. It was then Roy actually took notice of the said eyes. So unique and deep...full of joy but hiding something so secretive and so precious that even the heart could no longer withhold.

The man tore his eyes from the other and looked down, his heart pounding softly like it had been, a long long time ago. He winced slightly at the feeling of a hand resting upon his shoulder, caressing it gently while the scent of the cologne became richer and richer.

"Maes...?"

"About things we had never brought up." Maes whispered, lips barely pressed against the soft earlobe, shuddering its owner.

"Maes!"

"You know what I'm talking about, Roy!" The man spoke, voice dipped with honey and a smolder that was enough to allure anybody. "I've been thinking...about you. About us."

Roy snapped out of his trance and shifted away from the other, eyes still kept fixed on his lap- afraid to look up at those death traps that the other beheld. "No Maes." He said, softly yet a weakening firmness bordering the silky voice, "There is no 'us' with you and me. Nothing to think about us."

He could feel his heart beating again, in the same rhythm as it did for this man. This 'someone' who Roy had to try very hard to forget.

Maes seemed to not take the request very seriously as he drew closer to the man once more, a hand trailing up to his back and tracing fine lines with his long slender fingers.

"Unless you want to Roy." Maes insisted, purring against Roy's ears. "Shall we give it a try? Just once? Hm?"

Roy felt a shudder running up his spine, eyes fluttering to a closure as the feeling of comfort soothed in his body and mind. However, he soon jerked himself to his senses, eyes widening as a frown appeared on his forehead. They couldn't do this! They couldn't! It was wrong! Maes was a family man. He was married! He had a wife back home!

"It's just you and me. Two separate beings. Those who don't have a 'we' or 'us'." Said Roy, voice rasped and shaky. "Maes, it's getting too late. Gracia's waiting."

"Why not? Why can't we be one?" The said man persisted, warm lips pressing against the now reddened ears of the other.

"Maes. No. Gracia's waiting."

"If you don't give a chance...just one chance."

"No. M-maes. Gr-Gracia's waiting. Maes."

Roy sighed out, breathing deeply as Maes' warm mouth trailed down to his throat, suckling at his pulse point and giving it a slight nip. Onyx orbs closed once more, trying to be indulged in the pampering sensation that his body readily invited. But-

"Mm...Maes...Maes, Gracia..." He defended once more, damning himself as his voice came out in a different tone- filled with need.

Hot tongue traced the smooth neckline and then backed up to the firm jaws, kissing it lightly before giving the pair of soft lips a slight peck. Broad hands travelled up to Roy's chest, then back down again, settling on his belly and rubbing it gently- despite the resistance offered by the other's hand placed gingerly on top of his- while Maes' teeth nipped the flesh around Roy's collar bone as tenderly as the man could.

Roy clutched Maes' shirt, chest now heaving and falling roughly with each deep breathe that made its way out of his mouth. A tingling sensation ran all over his body, craving for the other to touch and feel him in ways Roy could ever imagine.

But...Maes had a wife.

"M-Maes...Maes, Gracia..." he tried once more, feeling his strength weakening with each passing moment.

"What about her?"

"She's...sh-she's waiting!"

"Let her wait." Maes purred, drawing Roy to a chaste kiss.

A soft moan escaped the alchemist's mouth, leaning against the couch while the man himself tilted his head for Maes' allowance. But not for long. Eyes shot open soon after the kiss intensified, from which Roy pulled out and moved a good distance away from his friend, looking at him with a disciplined and steady gaze. "She's waiting Maes."

Maes opened his mouth to say something but closed it slowly. It wasn't a word of caution but an order to leave. To leave Roy and get back to his wife...like he had done months ago after the war.

Olive eyes drooped as the man himself rose up from the couch, nodding and quietly heading for the exit. Not once did he turn back. For he knew he would be rejected much like he had denied the other's silent wish that he never brought up, himself remaining purposely clueless of what Roy to wanted tell.

Roy watched him go, fully before the broad shoulders disappeared from his sight when he finally dared to tear his eyes from the door itself. His heart panged, burnt with a sudden upsurge of emotions- jealousy being the most prominent one.

So close...Maes was so close to him...he was so close to make Roy his own...but Roy denied him. Made it clear that they had no future. They would never give it a try.

A right thing to do perhaps...but it was so painful. So darn painful! There was a time when Roy desperately wished to be with Maes, wanted Maes to be in him, own him...and he had the chance once again that night. Under unfair circumstances. A chance that Roy would never again be allegedly receiving.

But...now that Maes was gone, he had but to ask himself: Would it be too wrong to comply with Maes' wish? Would it be too much if he took that opening for one night? Could the wrong ever feel so right? A night's secret...a guarded one that they would never reveal?